The Accidental Vampire Plus Vampires Are Forever and Bonus Material

by Lynsay Sands

  Inez stepped into the marble bathroom, taking in the trolley of food, and the bathtub brimming with bubbles and then Thomas pushed a stack of towels at her.

  “There you go. Enjoy.”

  Inez blinked in confusion at the fluffy white stack she held and then turned toward the door he was now exiting through.

  “Wait!” she cried, taking a step to follow him. “What is this?”

  He turned back, surprise on his face. “I’d think it was obvious.”

  Inez frowned, her eyes narrowing as her mind returned to the pervert possibility. Did he plan to feed her, bathe her, and expect her to perform for him? Wishing she wasn’t holding the towels so that she could prop her hands on her hips, she growled, “I think you’d better explain.”

  Thomas eyed her for a moment, and then said, “Bastien forgot to tell me that someone would be at the airport, that’s why I hopped in a taxi. He says he dragged you out of bed at five A.M. and that—from what you said earlier—you rushed to the airport without either breakfast, or tea, or even a shower.” He smiled crookedly as he added, “Bastien asked me to give you his apologies. They are duly given, Bastien is sorry.”

  Inez waved the apology away and nodded to acknowledge it at the same time.

  “This”—he continued, gesturing around the bathroom with the full tub and trolley of food—“is my apology. Slip in the tub, eat your breakfast, and drink your tea, and when you’re feeling better, come back out and we’ll start to work.”

  “Work?” she asked uncertainly.

  “On the search for Aunt Marguerite,” he explained and when she looked blank, shook his head and said, “Bastien said he’d arranged for you to help me, that you knew the city and—” He paused suddenly, muttered something under his breath about Bastien and his sudden forgetfulness, and then sighed and explained, “Aunt Marguerite is missing. She flew to England about three weeks ago, stayed at the Dorchester a couple nights, and then headed north. She and Tiny were investigating—That’s not important. Basically, she was traveling all over England her first three weeks here and then stayed at the Dorchester again for a night. She apparently checked out the next morning, but we don’t know where she and Tiny went after that and neither of them have reported in since. I’m here to find her.”

  “I see,” Inez said slowly.

  “Bastien said he wanted you to help me, so, I thought we’d start with calling hotels to see if they just moved to another one for some reason. Failing that, we’ll try calling rental agencies, train stations, and so on to try to get a lead on where they’ve gone.”

  “Oh,” Inez said blankly.

  “Right…Well, don’t worry about that now. Enjoy your bath. We’ll talk about it after.” He started to pull the door closed, then stopped and added, “And don’t worry about rushing. I’m going to catch a couple z’s on the couch in the suite’s living room while you’re in here. Soak as long as you like.” He started to close the door again, and then paused once more and turned the inside lock, locking himself out once he pulled the door closed, which he immediately did.

  Clutching the towels and housecoat to her chest, Inez stared at the closed door for several minutes. Her mind was a blank. Well, not really. Her mind was awhirl with myriad thoughts and feelings, mostly amazement. She couldn’t believe he’d gone to all this trouble and effort for her.

  Her gaze slid to the bath he’d drawn and then to the trolley of food. Hers. It was all hers. And it was all so sweet. So thoughtful and considerate…Not what she would have expected from Thomas Argeneau or anyone for that matter. She tended to expect the worst from people so was always surprised by a kindness. And Thomas Argeneau had definitely surprised her.

  Inez frowned at her own thoughts. Really, she hardly knew the man so shouldn’t have any judgment of him yet. Her prejudgment was made up of one meeting and the fact that the few times Bastien Argeneau had mentioned his cousin Thomas, it had been with a tone of exasperation.

  From those two small things, Inez had assumed Thomas was a shiftless, lazy, thoughtless spoiled rich relative. She should have known better. Assumptions were bad, useless, a waste of time. But she had assumed, which made her an ass if she went by that old saying. And at that moment, it seemed to her the saying was true. She really did feel like an ass for making such obviously erroneous assumptions.

  Inez sank down on the side of the tub with a little sigh, her mind turning to the fact that he wasn’t there to loaf as she’d thought, but to find his aunt…and he seemed to expect her to help, but all she’d been instructed to do was collect him and see him to the hotel. She was just wondering what she should do about that when a phone began ringing.

  Standing again, Inez followed the sound to the counter, eyes landing on the cell phone lying there. Thomas’s. He’d obviously set it down and forgotten about it.

  She glanced at the digital display and bit her lip when she saw Bastien ID’d as the caller. After a hesitation, she set down the towels, picked up the phone, flipped it open, and put it to her ear as she headed for the door.

  “Hello Mr. Argeneau. This is Inez. Just give me a minute and I’ll take Thomas his phone so you can talk to him.”

  “No, that’s all right. I don’t need to talk to him,” Bastien interrupted quickly. “I really wanted to talk to you anyway.”

  “Oh.” Inez leaned against the door rather than open it.

  “Did Thomas explain and apologize for me?”

  “Yes,” she assured him, straightening away from the door and beginning to pace the room, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor. “He apologized.”

  “Hmm, but probably not properly,” Bastien muttered.

  Inez frowned at the words as her gaze slid over the food trolley and then to the bathtub brimming with bubbles. Perhaps it hadn’t been her fault she’d made her assumptions. It seemed obvious Bastien underestimated his cousin.

  “Actually, he did do it properly,” she said firmly, feeling a need to defend the younger Argeneau, and then added, “more than properly.”

  “Oh?” Bastien queried. “How is that?”

  Inez hesitated, and then admitted, “He drew me a bath, ordered tea and breakfast from room service, and suggested I make use of both to feel better. He’s being quite nice about all this, sir.”

  “He ran you a bath?” Bastien asked with surprise.

  “And room service,” she added defensively, suddenly uncomfortable and wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “And then he went out to nap while I clean up,” Inez added quickly in case he was thinking anything was amiss. She bit her lip and then said, “I probably won’t take the bath, of course, but—”

  “No, take the bath. That’s fine,” Bastien said quickly. “It will make me feel less guilty about rousting you from your bed. Besides, it isn’t like the two of you can do any looking for Mother right now. Thomas will need to sleep and then there’s the sun and so on. You may as well clean up first.”

  “So you did want me to help look for your mother?” she asked with relief, glad to have the matter cleared up.

  “Yes,” Bastien said and then there was a short silence, followed by a curse, followed by, “I forgot to mention that part, didn’t I?” A wry laugh came down the line. “I’m sorry, Inez. I’m a little distracted at the moment. So much has been happening, what with Lissianna having her baby, the trouble with Morgan, and then Mother going missing…”

  Inez raised an eyebrow as she heard him blow out a long, calming breath. She had no idea who this Morgan was he spoke of, but knew Lissianna was his sister, and had met his mother while in New York. Marguerite Argeneau was a beautiful woman who didn’t look a day over twenty-five. It was very difficult to believe she was the mother of Bastien Argeneau who she would guess was in his mid to late twenties himself.

  “I guess I owe you another apology. I know you have a lot to do, but I want you to put everything aside for now and help Thomas find my mother,” he explained grimly.

  “Okay,” Inez said slowly, then cleare
d her throat and said, “Sir? Wouldn’t it be better to hire a private detective and—”

  “She is a private detective,” Bastien interrupted impatiently, and then said, “Well, not really. She’s just started into the career, but Tiny, the man she’s with, is a proper private detective. A very good one, in fact, and he’s missing too.”

  “Oh,” she murmured.

  “Look, I know this isn’t part of your job, but we’re all quite worried about my mother. Thomas knows her habits, but has never spent much time in England. You know it better than he and you’re the most organized, details-oriented person I know. Between the two of you, I think you can track her down. It’s probably just a case of her getting wrapped up in the case and forgetting to call.”

  Bastien didn’t sound as if he believed what he was saying, but Inez didn’t question him on it and merely said, “Okay. I’ll do what I can, sir.”

  “Well…good. I really appreciate your assistance with this, Inez.”

  “Yes sir, but…” Inez hesitated and then said, “you mentioned Thomas and the sun. Is he allergic like you are?”

  She shifted, uncomfortable in the sudden silence that came from the other end of the phone, and then explained apologetically, “I only ask because if he is, I should probably arrange to use the car with the treated windows that you use when you are here and need to travel in sunlight.”

  “Yes,” Bastien said finally. “Yes, he has the same allergy. It runs in the family. You’d best arrange for my car to take you around.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now I’d best let you get to your breakfast before it gets cold. Would you put Thomas on the phone? I’ve just recalled something I forgot to mention to him.”

  “Of course. Just a minute.” Lowering the phone, Inez moved to the door, unlocked it, and slid out into the hall. She hurried through the dining room and found Thomas in the sitting room, seated on one of the two love seats facing each other in front of the fireplace. He was apparently writing something down in a binder.

  “Bastien wants to speak to you,” she said quietly, as she approached holding out the phone.

  “Oh, thanks,” Thomas muttered, not looking at all pleased at the interruption. He set the binder on the coffee table between the love seats, and accepted the phone. “Now, go have your bath before it gets cold.”

  Nodding, Inez turned away, but not before glancing curiously at the binder to see that he hadn’t been writing at all, at least not words. The binder held pages with musical tables on them, scored with musical notes scratched in bold black. He’d been writing music.

  Inez pondered that and listened absently as Thomas greeted his cousin in impatient, irritated tones as she crossed back to the door. She had nearly passed into the dining room when Thomas suddenly yelped, “What?”

  Inez turned back with concern, but Thomas glanced her way with wide eyes, and seeing her still there, pulled the phone from his ear and slammed it to his chest.

  “It’s all right. He just surprised me. Go on, have your bath.”

  Inez hesitated. His tone hadn’t sounded surprised so much as shocked, perhaps even horrified, but he was waving her away, obviously wanting privacy for his call, so she turned away to return to the bathroom.

  It was none of her business, Inez told herself as she crossed the dining room. Besides, her bath would get cold if she didn’t hurry. Bastien had said to take the bath and enjoy it and he was the boss, she told herself a smile slowly spreading her lips. Breakfast in the bath…how decadent was that?

  She was about to find out.

  Two

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Thomas said into the phone the moment he heard the bathroom door close. “You arranged for someone who doesn’t know about our people to help me find Aunt Marguerite? What were you thinking?”

  “I—”

  “Besides, I thought all the senior executives in Argeneau Enterprises and Argent knew about our kind,” Thomas interrupted with a frown. “Isn’t Inez a vice president or something? She should know.”

  “Yes she should,” Bastien agreed quickly. “We bring anyone promoted to an executive position to Canada or New York under the pretext of a tour of the head offices. We then reveal the truth to them and read their minds repeatedly over the next week to see how they accept it. If they are able to accept the information and keep the secret, all is well and they are promoted. If not…”

  Thomas grimaced, actually able to visualize his cousin shrugging. “If not…” meant the person’s memory would be wiped and they didn’t get the promotion. In fact, they’d most likely find themselves working for a different company shortly after that, hired away by a headhunter who suddenly noticed how brilliant the individual was…with a little help from an immortal. It was hard to work with someone who was horrified by what you are.

  “Right,” Thomas said dryly. “So how did Inez get promoted without the indoctrination?”

  “Where did you meet her, Thomas?” Bastien asked quietly.

  “In New York,” Thomas answered.

  Bastien rarely spent much time in the New York office, keeping Canada as his main base to work from, but the whole family had been there for Lucern and Kate’s wedding. It was where Bastien had met and briefly lost his lifemate, Terri.

  “The afternoon Inez arrived, I knew she’d be tired from the flight,” Bastien informed him quietly. “So we just had the meeting to introduce her to everyone—the meeting you walked in on—and then I sent her to her hotel. I intended to indoctrinate her the next day, but Terri arrived from England and…I got distracted by her turning and everything and…” He blew his breath along the phone line. “I ended up just telling Inez she was promoted and sending her back. I called Wyatt in England and told him to just keep her away from any information that was too revealing and I’d fly over and indoctrinate her at the first chance, but then there was the trouble in California with Vincent’s saboteur, then Morgan cropped up to cause his own difficulties, and now Mother is missing and I’m trying to arrange the wedding, but now it’s a double wedding with Lucian and Leigh, and Donny is driving me absolutely mad, and—”

  “Bastien,” Thomas interrupted his ranting. “I get it. Despite all outward appearances, you’re not perfect, dude. You screwed up. Get over it.”

  Another long, drawn-out sigh slid down the phone line. It was followed by a quiet, “Thomas?”

  “Yeah?” he asked with amusement, hearing the annoyance in his voice.

  “Never mind,” Bastien muttered and then asked, “Do you have any ideas on how you’re going to find Mother?”

  “A few,” he admitted reluctantly. “I thought I’d call the other hotels in London to make sure she hasn’t just booked into another one. If that doesn’t turn up anything, we’ll have to check car rental agencies and trains and flights…”

  “That’s a hell of a lot of calls. Even with the two of you working at it, it could take forever. There are hundreds of hotels in London,” Bastien muttered unhappily.

  “Yeah,” Thomas agreed quietly, his mind returning to an idea he’d had on the flight over. He hesitated over mentioning it, sure Bastien would think it was stupid, but then sighed and admitted, “I had a thought on the plane.”

  “What’s that?” Bastien asked hopefully.

  “Well, I read an article a couple months back about tracking cell phones. If I can track Aunt Marguerite’s cell it might be the fastest way to find her.”

  “They can track phones?” Bastien asked with interest.

  “Yeah. Maybe it’s only when a nine-one-one call is placed from the phone in the states and Canada, though. I’m not sure, but I’m going to check into it and see if it’s possible. I have a techie friend who just moved back to England last year who should be able to help me with that. If it can be done, I’m going to try to track her that way.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Bastien said.

  Thomas scowled at the surprise in his voice and said dryly, “I do have the occasional worthy idea
, Bastien. I know you and Lucern think I’m a loafer and an idiot, but—”

  “We don’t,” Bastien interrupted. “We know you’re intelligent and creative and—”

  “Yeah, right,” Thomas interrupted with amused disbelief.

  “We do. Really, we—” He released a slow breath and then he said, “Look, Thomas. Lucern and I know about your music.”

  Thomas stiffened at the bald announcement and then asked warily, “You do?”

  “Yes. Vincent mentioned it. He didn’t know it was a secret,” Bastien said, answering the unspoken question.

  Thomas grimaced. He’d been composing music for Vincent’s plays for decades. It hadn’t occurred to him that now that Vincent and Bastien were talking again, Vincent might mention it to him.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Bastien asked quietly. “Why the big secret?”

  “It wasn’t a secret,” Thomas said quietly. “Aunt Marguerite and Lissianna have known all along. So does Jeanne Louise and Mirabeau. And Etienne,” he added.

  “So only Lucern and I didn’t know?”

  “Well, dude, you never asked what my interests were, or what I do with my time when I’m not at Argeneau Enterprises,” he said simply.

  There was silence for a minute, and then Bastien said, “And only Lucern and I get the dude business.”

  Thomas grimaced, but didn’t say anything.

  “I know you only talk like that to annoy Lucern and me.”

  “What makes you think that?” he asked with amusement.

  “The first clue was that Lissianna gets this really amused look when you do it, Greg just looks curious, and you slip up all the time and forget to stick in the ‘dudes’ and ‘dudettes.’ I’ve overheard you have whole conversations with her and others that don’t include a single ‘dude,’ which means you only do it with us, and since it does annoy us, I’d guess that’s why.”